


Who Wants to Live Forever

by fangirl42



Series: Forever is our today 'verse [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, But mostly angst, Gray Wardens and their damn self-sacrificing ways, M/M, Magic, Male Slash, Morrigan and her sneaky sneaky offers, Thank you YouTube, Tragedy, Whole bits of dialog lifted from the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl42/pseuds/fangirl42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam Cousland stands at the brink of the final battle torn between his Duty and his Love. He may be called on to sacrifice his life to end the Blight, but how can he leave Zevran behind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net but I am cleaning things a bit as I upload chapters.
> 
> Yes, I unashamedly stole the title from Queen and entire sections of dialog from the game, but only in this chapter.
> 
> Thanks to David Gaider and the team at Bioware for this incredible story. The characters and places are theirs, I'm just borrowing them for a while.

The empty hall echoed as Liam pulled the door to Riordan’s room closed and leaned his head against the doorframe. The news that a Grey Warden must die to ensure the death of the Archdemon still reeled through his mind. Riordan assured him that he would take the final blow, but Liam doubted the man was up to the task. And if he fell before delivering the final blow…

Alistair had argued long and hard that as “Senior Warden of Ferelden” he should be Riordan’s second. He believed that it was the right damn thing to do and to hell with the consequences, which would leave that bitch Anora on the throne and Liam the last of Ferelden’s Wardens. It had taken every bit of his not inconsiderable charm and acumen to sway the argument. It almost seemed as if the man was looking for a way out of being king. 

An hour of arguing and heated words that strained their relationship to the breaking point and Alistair had finally relented. But not before he brought up his relationship with Zevran. The two of you can make a life together when this is over. Zevran needs to your help fight off the Crows. You know they won’t stop coming for him. Liam had nearly punched Alistair in the face at those words. He had held on to the reins of his temper by the narrowest of margins. Alistair had apologized then, relenting and agreeing to Liam’s plan.

Now, the strategy, such as it was, was set. They would leave in the morning for Denerim and what awaited them there – a horde of darkspawn and the Archdemon. 

Liam shook his head at the futility of their undertaking. It was a mad plan. Three Grey Wardens, the ragtag armies that he and Alistair had gathered and his companions against a horde that their best estimates suggested outnumbered them four to one. 

No, it was too much. Too much to think about. He had wasted enough of the night on it.

But to make that blow himself….

Liam was lost for a moment. Tears coursed down his face, as he was lost in the memories of the love he’d found and Wynne’s now prophetic words.

“Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one's mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else. A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?”

Now he understood. He could allow Alistair to make the final blow and remain by Zev’s side or he could choose to make the ultimate sacrifice. It wasn’t a matter of saving Zevran. Zev could take care of himself. No matter what Alistair insinuated, his assassin was a wonder to behold in battle and he held no doubts that Zev would be among those standing at the end. The Crows didn’t stand a chance against him. No, what he had to choose to sacrifice was his own future. A future with the man he loved.

It simply wasn’t fair.

“Life’s not fair, pup. Best get used to that now,” his father’s voice echoed in his head. Truer words were never spoken. Indeed, they’d been proven again and again in his fight to gather an army to defeat the darkspawn and find justice for his family and his nation.

Zevran must be kept from learning the truth until it was too late for him to act. 

Liam straightened up from Riordan’s door; brushed back his dark hair, wiped his eyes and set off for his room. He had one night left with Zevran. He planned on making it last until dawn.

The halls of Redcliffe Castle were quiet. Liam passed a guard making his rounds, but no one else. His room was around the corner from Riordan’s and he walked wearily down its length as if he was walking to his own execution. Arl Eamon had given Zevran a room several floors down near the servants quarters but Liam had a few things he needed to pick up before making his way there.

As he opened the door to his room, he was surprised to find Morrigan, of all people, sitting in the nearly dark room. Waiting. Only the firelight illuminated the room. Sighing, he closed the door.

“Do not be alarmed. It is only I. “

“Don’t you have your own bedroom?” he grumbled as he covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes. Better that she not see his tears.

“I did not come here to speak of sentimental things. I came here to speak with you. I have a plan, you see. A way out. A loop in your hole. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed and that sacrifice could be you. I have to tell you that this does not need to be.”

Liam’s eyes flew open, shocked at her words. “And how do you know about this?”

“I know a great many things. How I know is not quite as important as what I am offering you, however. I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens. There need be no sacrifice.”

Morrigan stood by the fireplace and Liam crossed the distance to her side quickly. He almost reached out for her, but stopped himself. Hands fisted by his side, he dared not to hope that the witch could help.

“And what might that be?”

“A ritual. Performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night.”

“Where did you get his ritual?”

“From Flemeth, of course.”

Of course, Flemeth. That old witch had to know more than she had been willing to tell. “So you knew about the Grey Wardens?”

“I did. Would you have believed me if I was the one to tell you? I have my doubts.”

Dismissing her snide remarks with a wave of his hand, Liam asked, “Just what is this ritual?”

“It is old magic from a time before the Circle of Magi was created. Some would call it blood magic, but I think recent days would have taught you that this is not always to be feared.”

Morrigan smiled, smugly. She meant the ritual Jowan had performed to save the Arl’s son. Still, the sacrifice then had been great.

“Nothing comes without a price,” he muttered darkly, turning away from Morrigan. He grabbed the poker and stirred the logs until sparks flew up the chimney and danced about the hearth. Morrigan stepped back, brushing disdainfully at the sparks.

“Perhaps. But that price need not be so unbearable. Especially if there is much to be gained. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to offer. Nothing more.”

Afraid to show Morrigan the hope that threatened to overwhelm him, Liam took a deep breath to calm himself. He remained standing with his back to her. He could listen, at least. Listening was not the same as doing.

“Very well. What is your plan?”

Morrigan smiled and slunk over to the bed. She sat down and gazed over at Liam before speaking. The quiet creak of the bed frame drew his attention and he turned to she her perched on the edge of the bed.

“What I propose is this. Lay with me here tonight and from our joining a child will be conceived. The child will bear the taint and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The Archdemon is still destroyed with no Grey Wardens dying in the process.”

Liam shuddered at the very idea. Lay with Morrigan? Was she mad or simply desperate? And what of this child she so blithely planned to conceive?

“So the child becomes a darkspawn.”

“Not at all. It will become something different. A child born with the soul of an old god.” Morrigan’s eyes narrowed and her tone grew harsher. “After this is done, you allow me to walk away and you do not follow. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish.”

Liam shook his head at the lunacy she planned. “How do you even know this will work?”

“This is what my mother intended when she sent me out with you. She was the one who first gave me this ritual, told me of what I was meant to do. This does not surprise you does it? Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life? Why she aided you? This is why. What is important is that I am offering this to you now. It will work. And it will save your life. “

All along, she was waiting for this moment. Waiting for the chance to create something for her own ends. Instead of sacrificing a Grey Warden, she wishes to sacrifice an innocent child. What will this new being she intends to create be like?

“Will the child be evil? What will it become?” Liam’s words echoed his thoughts.

“Allow me to say that what I seek is the essence of the old god that once was and not the dark force that corrupted it. Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will, “ Morrigan shrugged.

“What will you do with the child?” 

“I do not wish to tell you.”

“I insist. I need to know what you plan, “ Liam pressed.

Morrigan seemed reluctant to answer. Finally, she spoke, “The child will represent freedom for an ancient power. A chance to be reborn apart from the taint. Is that not reason enough to do it? I will raise the child apart from the rest of society and teach it to respect that from which it came. Beyond that, you need know nothing else. “

Tired of talking and catering to her madness, Liam snapped, “You don’t think I will actually go through with this?”

Morrigan seemed shocked. Her eyes grew wide in surprise and she screeched as she stood up. “Why? Because of Zevran? Do you truly believe that he would condemn you or any other Grey Warden to death when it could be avoided? Consider the possibility that Riordan may not be there to make the final blow as he plans. What then? Do you run away? Do you let Alastair, the future King of Ferelden, take the blow instead? And what if he does not make it to the Archdemon either? Would you truly choose death rather than lay with me for one night? Would you deny yourself the tomorrows and all its rewards?”

Liam turned his back on her. Her words bit deep but he took comfort in the fact that she had no concept of self-sacrifice. “No. I don’t agree to this.”

Morrigan leapt up and strode over to the fireplace, seething. She stood near enough to Liam that he could feel her frustration rolling of her in waves. She stood silently for several moments. So long that Liam began to wonder when the spells would start to fly. Then she turned away and in an oily voice changed her tactics.

“I see. There is, of course, another option. I speak of course of Alastair. He is Grey Warden, just as you are and would also serve for the ritual. The trick, of course, would be to get him to comply. To me, he would not listen, but perhaps to you. I think he just might.”

Liam whipped around, glaring, “I said no and I meant it.” He grabbed Morrigan by the arm and shook her. “Never.”

“Do not let your foolish pride condemn you. No Grey Warden asked for the sacrifice that is now demanded of them and I offer all of you a way out. Will you not reconsider?”

“I will not. The answer is no,” he spat out, thrusting her away from him. As he turned his back on her he could almost hear Zevran’s voice, never turn your back on an enemy, my Warden.

“Then you are a fool. I will not stand by and watch you waste this opportunity. Die! If you feel it is worthwhile. Or be overshadowed. I care not.”

“You need to leave, Morrigan. Now.” Liam pointed at the door.

Infuriated, Morrigan left Liam’s side and wrenched open the door. She paused on the threshold and spoke over her shoulder. “Fare you well, my friend. I do what I must now. And so shall you.”

“So shall we all,” Liam said, pointing again towards the door.

At that, Morrigan left, turning into a grey wolf in a flash of light. Liam reached for the chair in front of him, grasping its back like a drowning man. He stood there, head bowed, and eyes closed, struggling to breathe.

“Was that a wolf?”

Liam tensed at the sound of Zevran’s voice. How much had he heard? Damn him and his sneaky ways. Liam could hear Zev’s soft steps approaching, but only because the assassin chose. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on calming his breathing.

“I thought perhaps we could finish the last of that fine Antivan brandy you found. I have been saving it for a special occasion,” Zev purred, reaching around Liam to place the bottle on the table next to Liam.

“What is wrong, mi amor?” he asked as he placed his hands on Liam’s shoulders. 

“Just nerves, Zev. After all these months, the end is finally here.”

Zevran massaged Liam’s shoulders with a firm touch, kneading the tense muscles and seeking to relax his lover. As Liam’s muscles began to loosen, Zevran slid his hands up Liam’s shoulders and into his thick black hair, massaging the scalp and scraping his nails lightly along his nape. Liam rolled his head under Zevran’s deft hands and groaned.

From their first kiss, Zevran’s touch set Liam aflame. He had wondered if it would always be like this, this need and desire blooming from a simple touch. Now he knew.

Zevran drew his hands down Liam’s shoulders and across his arms before sliding them across his chest and down to gently clasp around Liam’s waist. He kissed the back of Liam’s ear and breathed gently, making Liam shiver.

“Better?”

Liam turned in Zevran’s arms and took his face in his hands. He rubbed his thumbs across Zevran’s brow and traced the tattoo on his cheek with a fingertip.

“You are beautiful, my assassin, “ he whispered before he kissed him gently on the lips.

Zevran opened his mouth under his and what began as a something gentle soon grew deeper as their tongues dueled. Zevran’s hands moved up his back and met behind his head, pulling Liam closer still.

Panting, Liam broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Zevran’s. They stood that way for a moment, breathing hard.

“Te quiero, mi amor. Come, let us make use of the Arl’s fine bed.”

Liam chuckled softly and rubbed Zevran’s earring absentmindedly. “In due time, but first I have something for you.”

Liam kissed Zevran’s forehead and pulled away. Stepping from the arms of his lover, he crossed the room to his backpack, resting against the hearth. Squatting down, he opened the pack and pulled out a small cloth wrapped parcel resting on top. Item in hand, he stood up and returned to Zevran’s side.

He took Zev’s hand, turned it palm up then placed the parcel on it. Zevran smiled and looked up at the Warden through his eyelashes.

“Oh, what do we have here?”

“Open it.”

Zevran unwrapped the cloth to reveal a plain gold band. “A ring? For me?”

“Read the inscription.”

Zevran picked up the ring and held it to the firelight, twisting it in his fingers until he could see the words engraved in Antivan. 

“El corazón quiere lo que el corazón quiere. Tú eres mi corazón,” Zev whispered through a throat suddenly tight with emotion.

Liam plucked the ring from Zevran’s fingers, turned over his left hand and slid the ring onto his ring finger. As the ring found its home, Zevran clutched Liam’s hand and squeezed tightly, bringing it up to his lips.

“You are mine, as well, mi corazón. Until the end of time.”

Zevran sensed Liam’s anxiety behind his declaration of love. The specifics of what was troubling him was unknown, but Zev saw more than just love and passion in Liam’s eyes. Reflected in the firelight was also desperation, more than he had ever seen before. No nightmare of the Archdemon had left Liam so frightened. No memory of his lost family evoked this look of pure sadness. He has no hope left, Zevran realized. There is more going on here than just simple pre-battle jitters.

All this ran through Zevran’s mind in the time it took him to pull his lover by the hand to the waiting bed. He pushed Liam down and began to undress him, pulling his tunic over his head. Zevran kept his eyes locked with Liam’s, only breaking his gaze when forced and then returning. Reaching down, he pulled off Liam’s right boot and then his left. 

Stepping back, Zevran toed off his boots and then pulled off his tunic, tossing it aside. His eyes never left Liam’s as he slowly pushed his leather leggings down his hips, taking his smallclothes with them. His erection, freed from the confines of his pants, bobbed slightly. Liam eyes darted down and back up, making Zevran smirk. 

Ah, that was more like it.

Kicking his pants aside, Zevran moved, cat-like and seductive, towards Liam. Eyes still locked, he reached for the waist of Liam’s pants and began to undo the buttons. After pushing Liam’s shoulder until he collapsed back onto the bed, Zevran grasped the pants and pulled, turning them inside out and off Liam’s legs in one swift motion. 

Zevran stood between Liam’s knees and gazed at the body beneath him. Liam’s tall, muscular form was something that he could never look at enough. The scars from many battles, some new and others older even than their time together, only made him even more drawn to Liam. Reaching out Zevran caressed one such scar at Liam’s hip. A few more inches lower and their first meeting would have been their last.

“I am glad that I missed anything…vital, my dear, but I cannot regret leaving my mark,” Zevran said. His fingertips trailed down the scar and past until they reached Liam’s penis, standing at attention in the nest of dark curls. Liam’s sharp intake of breath as Zevran’s warm hand wrapped around the shaft brought a lecherous grin his face.

Eyes locked on Liam’s, Zevran knelt and swiped his tongue across the swollen head. Liam’s hands reached for his head and fisted in his blond hair as his eyes drifted close. Zevran began stroking slowly, down the length of Liam’s arousal and the back up. Liam rolled his hips to match the movement, a soft groan escaping his clenched teeth.

Liam’s hands left Zev’s hair and clutched his shoulders, pulling. “Come here, “ his murmured huskily.

Zevran smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he slid upwards. His hand retained his grip on Liam’s cock, twisting around the shaft as he moved. 

Liam opened his eyes and watched as his lover joined him on the bed, one hand seeking Zevran’s entrance. As he circled it and then slipped gentle finger inside, Zev’s eyes closed and his head fell back, mouth opening on a sudden gasp.

Liam drew Zevran into his embrace, reaching up with his free hand to grasp the back of his head and bring it close. Their lips met and both men worked towards their mutual goal with grasping fingers.

As always, Zevran’s kiss was enough to nearly drive Liam over the edge. The kiss deepened and Liam poured all of his desire and need into pleasing his lover.

For his part, Zevran responded with equal ardor. From the beginning, from the first tentative kiss, Zevran had felt a deep connection and a deep need. The Warden’s kisses became as essential to his daily continuation as breath itself.

Breaking free from Liam’s mouth, his rising passion nearly overwhelming him, Zevran growled. “Te quiero. I need you. Inside me, Liam. Now.”

Zevran pushed Liam onto his back and straddled his hips. Leaning forward and reaching back, he guided Liam into his entrance, pushing back until he felt the tip slip inside. Satisifed that he had Liam just where he wanted, Zevran sat up, slowly taking more of the firm heated flesh into himself. The burn as his body stretched to accomodate Liam made him hiss but it quickly faded.

“Maker, Zev. That feels so good,” Liam whispered as he grasped tightly at Zev’s hips, pushing slightly, easing him downward.

Zevran smiled and looked down at Liam. “Si, mi amor. And to think, “ he said, tracing the scar at Liam’s hip as he arched his back and sat up fully. “I planned to let A Grey Warden’s sword end my life that day. Instead, I met you.”

Liam skimmed his hands upwards, tracing the swirling tatoo as it sprialed up Zevran’s hip and across his chest. Eyes half closed, he gazed at his lover through his dark lashes and smiled.

“I’m glad be both failed that day in our efforts to kill one another. It would have been a waste of a perfectly handsome Elf. Now shut up and come here,” he said, pulling Zevran down as he thrust upward with his hips.

“Of course, My Warden. I am your man.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam seeks to distract an inquisitive Elf.

Zevran rested on his side, his head in one hand, and watched Liam cross the room to retrieve the Antivan brandy he had brought. In the soft glow of the firelight, the many scars on Liam’s body were invisible and Zevran could imagine how he might have looked had fate not made him a Grey Warden. Tall and long of limb, broad shoulders and firm muscles – those would still be there. His Warden was a warrior born and as such would have had a strong, graceful body had he stayed in Highever, but his fight against the Blight had tempered that underlying steel; made it stronger and leaner.

Liam searched the room for something, Zevran wasn’t sure what. Not on the end table, not on the dresser. Not on the mantel, not on the nightstand. Zevran chuckled as Liam searched, frustration evident in how he ran a hand through the damp curls on his head, making them stand up in comical whorls.

“What are you looking for, my dear?” Zevran asked, sitting up.  
“Hmm?” Liam murmured, looking up from his perusal of the wardrobe. “Glasses. Unless you want to simply pass the bottle,” he smirked, shaking the bottle.

“Well, I doubt that you will find any in there, no?”

Liam laughed and crawled onto the bed. As he climbed across Zevran he planted a kiss on his forehead. Setting his teeth to the cork as he sat down, he pulled it out and spit it across the room. Then he took a long swallow, his throat working as he pulled at the bottle.

Liam handed the bottle over and Zevran cocked an eyebrow as he took it.   
“Antivan brandy is meant to be savored, no? Not guzzled.”

Liam shrugged as Zevran took several sips before passing the bottle back. He took a small sip, holding the smoky alcohol in is mouth for a moment, warming it. Closing his eyes, he savored the flavor before swallowing. Then he propped the pillows against the headboard and scooted back, resting his head on the wall. He held his arms out to Zevran, who smiled and settled into the larger man’s arms. With his foot, Liam snagged the blanket were it had ended scrunched up towards the foot of the bed during their lovemaking and pulled it close enough to grab. He flicked it across the two of them and wrapped his arms around Zevran. Liam planted a soft kiss on the top of Zevran’s blond head as it rested on his shoulder.

“Are you cold?”

“Not anymore,” Zev said as he slid one arm behind Liam’s back and nuzzled closer. Reaching with his free hand, he retrieved the brandy bottle from where Liam had carelessly sat it on the bed. He took a small sip and tilted his head up, looking through his lashes at Liam. Swallowing, he stretched up and kissed him.

The taste of the brandy lingered on his tongue as he slipped it slowly between Liam’s lips and stroked the other man’s mouth. Liam groaned and wove his fingers through Zevran’s hair, pulling him close.

Zevran pulled back, slowly, smiling at the look of contentment on Liam’s face. The look was fleeting, however, and what took its place disturbed him. Pain, pure and unadulterated settled across Liam’s face. Pain tinged with fear. No, terror.

There is something wrong; something more than just battle jitters. Zevran had never seen such a look on his Warden’s face. Not when he talked about his family. Not when he woke shuddering from nightmares that he refused to discuss. Then the mask that Liam so often wore before others slipped down and he opened his eyes.

He smiled at Zevran, such a tender smile that the Elf’s heart clenched. Zevran twisted in Liam’s arms and reached to place the brandy on the bedside table. Turning back, he searched Liam’s face, reaching his free hand up to push back the thick black hair from his face.

“Will you not tell me what disturbs you so, mi amor?”

The look he’d seen before flickered across Liam’s face and then was gone again. “I’ve talked enough tonight. Let tonight be just for us. No Archdemon, no Blight. Just the two of us. Let this be our moment. I want to store up the memory of you to last me a lifetime.”

“You speak as if you don’t expect us to survive tomorrow.”

“Anything can happen, Zev.”

“Nonsense. We will fight. We will win. Don’t forget, we are ridiculously awesome. And when we are done, you and I, we will have many nights together.”

Liam reached out and stroked the tattoo that curled across Zevran’s check. “What is you always say? Who wants to live forever?”

Zevran placed his free hand on Liam’s cheek. “You are scaring me, querido.”

Liam kissed his forehead and leaned back, resting his head against the wall. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Zevran laid his head on Liam’s chest and held him close. Liam’s arms tightened around the Elf in return and they clung to each other. Liam felt as if Zevran’s arms were the only things holding him down, anchoring him to the world. The thought crossed his mind that if Zev let go, he’d fall into the sky.

If we can’t have forever, he thought, let tonight be our forever. I will store up the memory of everything we do, every look, every touch and make it my last thought. But now I must distract him. My assassin is too clever by half. 

“Tell me about Antiva?”

Zevran sighed against Liam’s chest. “Again?”

“Tell me about some place warm and bright and free.”

Zevran squeezed Liam once more and then extracted himself from his lover’s embrace, scooting up to sit next to him. He pulled Liam’s right arm over his shoulders and held his hand. Absently stroking Liam’s thigh with his other hand, Zevran leaned his head back and rested it against Liam’s.

“Let me see. I remember a cove with a sandy beach about a day’s walk west of Antiva City. The coast in that area was rocky and difficult to traverse. The cliffs met the sea for miles in both directions, making it inhospitable to smugglers and shipping. But this cove, it was an oasis. Sandy beaches, palm trees swaying in the breeze. It was lovely. Secluded and untouched, yes?”

“How did you find it?”

“Quite by accident. I was returning from a job in Rialto that had not gone as well as I would have hoped. Those that followed me were easily misled, however. They expected me to return in haste to Antiva City, no? So instead, I travelled along the coast, avoiding the towns along the way. No shadowy alleys to be waylaid in when there is nothing but grassland as far as the eye can see. It was a brilliant move that completely worked, of course,” Zevran chortled.

“I said the coast dropped off into the ocean, yes? Well, in the fading light that day, I very nearly missed the sudden drop as the cove curved into the coastline. If it were not for my lightning reflexes I would have fallen, most likely to my death on the rocks below. Fortunately for you, I caught myself and managed to climb down the cliff face to the beach below.”

“I’m glad you did,” Liam laughed. “It would be a shame for the great assassin Araini to be felled by a precipice.”

“Hush, you, “ Zev mumbled, slapping Liam’s knee. “Let me see, where was I. Oh yes, I climbed down the rock face and made camp on the beach below. It was such a lovely place that I stayed for two days to further throw off pursuit. I swam in the warm waters of the cove, slept in the sun. Naked, of course. There were fish that practically leaped into my hands and a small spring at the base of the cliff for fresh water. It was quite lovely, in truth, but I missed the women and wine of the city, so on the morning of the third day, I climbed out and returned home.”

“It sounds like a beautiful spot.”

“Yes, it was.” 

Zevran looked at the hand entwined in his own, broad and pale. His tanned fingers contrasting as he brushed a kiss across the knuckles, dusted with small black hairs. He had a sudden image of Liam, pale skin gleaming in the sun as he lay on the sandy beach of the cove.

“We must go there someday, mi corazón.”

Liam was silent; rubbing his thumb along the ring he had given Zevran. He smiled and brought their clasped hands to his lips and pulled Zevran’s thumb into his mouth. He nipped the digit with his teeth and swirled his tongue along the pad.

Uncurling his fingers, Liam held Zev’s hand and moved from finger to finger, nipping and sucking gently. Zevran’s free hand slipped up his thigh and stroked his lover’s burgeoning erection, his eyes closed and head thrown back as Liam moved down his wrist towards his elbow.

Liam licked the curve of Zevran’s elbow, following with his warm breath, making Zev shiver. He slid out of Zevran’s embrace as he continued kissing and licking up his arm, moving towards the shoulder. With his other arm free, he backed away, forcing Zevran to release him.

Zevran raised one brow and pouted. Liam just shook a finger at him, a sultry smile on his lips as he pushed the covers out of his way. He straddled Zevran’s knees and pushed himself back until he was hovering over Zev’s groin. 

Zevran reached out and placed his hands on either side of Liam’s head, entwining his fingers in his hair as Liam wrapped one warm hand around his stiffening member. He hissed as Liam swept his tongue across the head and then took him with his mouth.

As Liam stroked and sucked, Zevran lost himself in the sensations coursing through his body, all thought of Liam’s odd behavior driven from his mind.

Which was, of course, exactly what Liam intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words and music of Brian May and the voice of the great Freddie Mercury reached their peak with the song “Who wants to live forever”. This song is more than just the title I am blatantly stealing for my own; it is the theme song of the entire story, Zevran and Liam’s song, if you will. For this story can only be a tragedy and this song captures the essence of lost love and bittersweet moments. I doubt I will do as well.
> 
> Bioware owns the characters, Queen owns the music, I’m just borrowing them both.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise is made and a journey begun.

They had spent most of the night making love, interspersed with retellings of their many adventures together, most of which seemed far funnier and far less dangerous as the night grew late. Sometime in the small hours before dawn, Zevran fell asleep in Liam’s arms.

He’d stayed there, holding the Elf as he slept, tears streaming down his face. With Zev finally quiet and still, Liam could let his mask slip. Eventually, he slithered out of the bed with the same grace Zevran had so admired on the battlefield and quietly gathered Zevran’s armor. 

With loving care, he set to cleaning the ancient elven armor until it gleamed. When he picked up the Antivan boots, Liam smiled wistfully, remembering how excited Zev had been when he gave them to him in Haven. One more memory to save and hold tight.

As the first faded rays of the dawn crept into the room, Liam sat on the windowsill. Stacked beside him was Zev’s armor, shiny and clean. As he watched his sleeping love, he held the boots, still stinky but now burnished to a high shine. The time was drawing near to face the coming battle, but Liam couldn’t bring himself to move, afraid of waking Zevran and ending this last bittersweet moment.

With a resigned sigh, he stood, setting the boots gently next to the armor, and retrieved his tunic and pants. Tugging the tunic over his head and stepping into the pants, he slipped out of the room and silently shut the door behind him, stepping over Rowan’s sleeping form guarding the door.

Liam bent down to scratch the mabari behind one ear and signaled him to follow. Padding down the halls in his bare feet, Liam headed downstairs to Sten’s room. He had a special assignment in mind for the Qunari. 

The halls of the estate were still quiet, but as he moved downstairs he began to see more people up and about. He would not have long to talk to Sten before he ran the risk of running into his companions or returning before Zevran awoke. 

Upon reaching Sten’s door, he had the mabari sit. “Stay here, Rowan. I need to speak to your favorite Qunari.” The dog ruffed once and wagged his stubby tail as he sat at attention. Liam rapped once and opened the door at the muffled “Enter”.

“Kadan, the time draws near, does it not?”

“Yes, Sten. I wanted to discuss something with you.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to speak of it anyone else, especially Zevran.”

Sten nodded, the perpetual scowl firmly in place. “Continue.”

“In order for the Archdemon to be destroyed, a Grey Warden must make the final blow. In doing so, both the Archdemon and Warden die. Riordan plans on doing this, but if he should fail, it will fall to me. Alistair must not be allowed to make the killing blow. He is King now and the peace among the nobles is too fragile to survive his death. I hope that I have convinced him of this, but he may attempt to make the effort. I want you to stop him.”

“And the Elf?”

Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “He doesn’t know. He can’t know. He would…likely do something foolish in the extreme if he did. I plan on assigning Zevran and Rowan to assist you in watching Alistair. I will tell him it is to protect the King from the darkspawn, which it is, in a way.”

Sten was quiet for a moment. “A Grey Warden must sacrifice himself to kill the Archdemon and end the Blight. How very…unsettling. I am surprised that you do not simply ask them to stay here and away from the battle.”

“I cannot. We need both of them to fight and I can’t ask Alistair to direct the battle from a safe vantage point. It’s not his way. Rowan would follow me but he likes you and he’ll stay with you if I tell him to. And Zevran, I couldn’t keep him away if I wanted. He would just find a way to join the fray on his own. At least this way, I will know where he is.”

“As you wish, Kadan. I will do this.”

“Thank you, Sten. There will be plenty of darkspawn for you and Asala to kill, never fear.”

“I do not.”

Liam smiled then and held is hand out to Sten, who grasped his wrist in a warrior’s clasp. 

“It has been an honor to know you, Sten. I hope that when you return to your Arishok you tell him of me and our journey.”

Sten nodded, once. “I will tell him you performed your duty with honor, Warden. Ataash varin kata.” Liam cocked his head in query of the Qunari phrase and Sten translated, “ It means, ‘In the end lies glory’.”

Liam nodded, squeezed Sten’s wrist once, hard, before letting go and leaving. As he closed the door behind him, the Qunari bowed his head and began the prayers for the dead. He knew the Warden would soon die. 

Liam opened the door to his room and found Zevran awake and leaning against the mantle, one ankle crossed over the other. He wore his newly cleaned armor and looked resplendent in the glow of the rebuilt fire.

“Ah, there you are. And my furry friend, as well. I was wondering where you went. Do I have you to thank for this?” he said as he gestured to himself.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Liam said as he crossed the room to the Elf’s side, Rowan padding alongside. He reached out and stroked the tip of Zev’s ear, sliding his hand down to cup his cheek. He kissed him lightly on the lips and turned away.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Zevran watched Liam cross the room and strip down, kicking aside his dirty clothes with a foot. His actions were quick and sure as he pulled clean clothes out of the wardrobe and dressed quickly. Liam’s usual confidence seemed to have returned and Zevran relaxed, some small portion of the tension that had plagued him since he found his lover standing shattered in this room just hours before finally letting go. 

Rowan watched his master as well, panting at Zevran’s side. He cocked his head to the side and looked back and forth between the two men before turning twice in a circle and lying down. He closed his eyes and quickly dozed by the heat of the fire.

Dressed in his padded jerkin, Liam returned to Zevran’s side. His armor was on the stand near the fireplace and as he reached for it, Zevran stayed his hand.

“Let me do this, mi amor.”

Liam stared into Zevran’s eyes, trying to determine if he had somehow guessed what was to come. All he saw was love. He nodded.

Zevran gathered up the heavy pieces, amazed anew at how Liam could wear the cumbersome armor and still move. He worked buckles and straps, adjusting the fit so that it would hold Liam tight in it’s protective embrace. When he was done, he stepped back and nodded in satisfaction. The Juggernaut armor was strangely beautiful up close. It was a fitting armor for his fierce warrior.

Zevran turned and gathered up the Warden’s greatsword. The large and wickedly sharp blade was a tall as he and it took all of his strength to handle it gracefully. He laid the flat of the blade across his forearm and offered the hilt to Liam. 

Liam took it, drawing the blade down Zevran’s arm until it was free. He let it drop to his side before spinning it in his hand, keeping it away from Zevran with deft ease. With a quiet squeal of metal on metal, Liam slid the sword into sheath on his back. In a flash of movement, he reached out for Zevran. He grabbed Zev’s chest plate and drew him close. The clash of metal on metal sounded as he kissed him, hard and long. The Elf’s armor clad hands tangled in his hair, pulling him close and kissing back with equal ardor. 

At last, Liam pulled back and rested his forehead on Zevran’s. His breathing was ragged as he whispered, “I love you, Zevran Araini. Never forget that.”

“Te amo, my Warden.” Zev kissed Liam on the forehead, his lips lingering against the warm skin before he stepped back. “Now, let us go kill darkspawn. Since we are far too encumbered to make love again, I must expend this energy somehow.”

Rowan barked at the mention of darkspawn and Liam laughed, a sound full of joy to Zevran’s ears. Taking his hand and motioning to the hound, he headed out to gather his companions and face his destiny.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and tension ratcheted up yet another notch.

Rowan followed Liam and Zevran as they headed downstairs for the dining hall. Breakfast would be quick and simple before the march to Denerim began. Liam hoped to have time to speak to each of his companions and discuss some basic strategy. Details would have to wait until reaching the battlefield, but he planned on assigning some basic groups now. Better to have this discussion away from the heat of battle.

He looked down at Zevran, walking calmly by his side, his fingers still entwined in his. Before Zev gave him his token, he would never have consented to even this subtle display of open affection. The thought made him smile wistfully. To have reached this point, the point of no return so to speak, and to know that the rewards of his pursuit had already been spent was bittersweet.

As they reached the door to the hall, Liam squeezed Zevran’s hand. The Elf looked up at him, smiling, and tugged on his hand, pulling him short of the door. He turned to him and caressed his cheek.

“Assassinating you was the luckiest thing that could have happened to me.”

Liam chuckled and turned his head to kiss Zevran’s palm. “I couldn’t have gotten here without you by my side.”

“Somehow I doubt that. It would have been far less entertaining, but you would have managed just fine, I think.”

“Perhaps. It would have been very dull.”

“Yes, my witty banter and stunning good looks certainly improved the party.” Zevran sighed and gestured with his free hand to the door. “Time to face the music, my Warden. Besides, I’m starving and I expect this will be my last decent meal in days.”

Liam nodded once and pushed open the door. Inside the dining hall, his other companions were gathered around the long table. The mood was subdued until Leliana saw them enter.

“There you are! Come, I have saved you some biscuits. They’re quite good.”

Rowan barked once and pushed past the men to join Sten where he sat at the end of the table with a not insignificant space around him. The Qunari glanced down at the dog, growled a greeting and set his plate down on the floor. The Mabari barked and set to licking the plate clean.

“Ah, the two love birds finally arrive,” Alistair quipped. “I was just about to tell Eamon to send out a search party.” He smiled and waved them over to the table, making room for them on the bench next to him. He shoved Oghren to get him to move and the dwarf merely grunted, sliding his plate down the table without pausing to stop shoveling food into his mouth.

Liam and Zevran sat on the bench as Wynne passed a platter of bacon to Liam and Leliana passed the basket of biscuits across the table to Zevran. Both men proceeded to cover their plates with food.

“Sten, you’re spoiling my dog again.”

The Qunari looked up from his silent dialog with Rowan, scowling. “He was hungry.”

“Yes, well, he didn’t have to take your plate.”

Sten just grunted and picked up his drink. Scintillating conversation completed, Liam began to eat.

“Has anyone seen Morrigan this morning?” Leliana asked.

Liam’s fingers tightened on his fork, his knuckles turning white. Zev noticed and looked at Liam’s face. It was carefully blank. Too much so. 

“She’s gone.”

“Gone! What do you mean?”

“Just what I said, Leli. She left,” Liam’s tone was flat and brooked no argument.

His companions exchanged confused looks, wondering at the meaning. All except Alistair, whose glare was enough to cause the servant bringing more biscuits to the table to take a step back.

“That bitch! After all this time, to abandon you now when we’ve reached the end. Well, it’s good riddance, I say. Never liked her anyway,” he finished with a mutter.

“We could certainly use Morrigan’s skills. Perhaps we should look for her?” Wynne asked.

“No. We can’t take the time to track her down. She’s gone. Forget about her. I already have.”

Just then Oghren let out a prodigious belch that caused Alistair to wince and lean away. Across the table, Wynne’s disapproval was evident.

“Really, Oghren. That was disgusting,” Wynne commented, waving the wafting odor away from her face.

“Sod off. So, Warden, what’s the plan?”

Thank goodness for Og’s bluntness. Sometimes Liam thought the dwarf was actually more astute than he seemed. He nodded his thanks for the distraction and finished the mouthful of food before speaking.

“Has Riordan left already, Eamon?”

“Yes, he and several scouts headed out at daybreak.”

“Good. Well,” he said, standing up from the table, a biscuit and mug in each hand. “We can’t know for sure the exact plan until we see the lay of their armies at Denerim.” 

He strode over to the fireplace and turned his back to it. They had all turned to face him, even Rowan, who lay at Sten’s feet. He took a moment to memorize the faces of the people that had become his family. 

Sten sat at the end of the table, his back straight and his usual frown in place. He stared back at Liam, waiting. Liam wondered again how old Sten was. It was difficult to guess. The bronze skin and white hair of the Qunari giant gave him an exotic look that defied any ability to determine age.

The Mabari at Sten’s feet looked at him expectantly, his tiny stub of a tail wagging furiously. The dog had been with him since childhood and despite his years still followed him with the eagerness of a pup. He had an uncanny ability to understand what was being said and communicate as well. Liam hoped that at the end, Sten would see fit to return to Par Vallen with Rowan if he fell.

Smiling fondly at the beast, Liam shifted his attention to Leliana, who sat next to Sten, her green eyes steady on Liam’s face as she waited. The Orlesian beauty had turned out to be a good friend and a fearsome fighter. Her bow sang in battle, its song no less beautiful than the ones she sang every night around their campfire.

The older circle mage Wynne sat next to Leliana. Her motherly presence had been both the comfort and bane of Liam’s existence. The words she had spoken to him about Zevran, despite the fact that she had later told him she had misjudged the situation, returned to haunt him. Still, he was glad to have her with them. Her healing spells had turned the tide in more than one battle.

The dwarf was back to eating, though he kept glancing at Liam as he did. Oghren had been a source of constant irritation for many. His crude ways and stunning ability to consume mass quantities of alcohol made for many a terse conversation between Liam and Wynne. Still, when Og roared into battle with this axe, no one complained. 

And Alistair, his King and oldest companion. They had been through so much together. Both of them had grown up, whether they wanted to or not. Now they faced this final battle, the knowledge of what was to come between them. Liam could see the sorrow in Alistair’s eyes as he glanced from him to Zevran. Alistair had not really understood what it was between Liam and Zev at first. The sheltered chantry boy in him had been scandalized at their physical relationship but he’d come to see, even before Liam himself, that there was more to it that just sex.

Alistair looked away from Liam’s gaze, unable to hold his eyes any longer. He shifted in his seat and rolled his neck, trying to relieve the tension.

Liam moved his perusal to Zevran as he sat next to Alistair. It had not escaped Zev’s attention, the look that had passed in Alistair’s eyes. Frowning, he turned his head to look at Liam only to find the human staring at him, the same look in his own. Finally, Liam tore his eyes away and cleared his throat.

“It has been my honor to fight alongside all of you. Now, the time has come to end the Blight. The darkspawn horde is marching on Denerim, as you know. They will beat us there. Maker preserve those in the city. The Archdemon leads and if we can destroy it, the horde should fall apart. 

“We can’t know exactly how this will play out, but I have some basic strategies that I think will serve us, no matter what we may encounter. We will divide into two groups, each leading a portion of our gathered armies. Sten, Alistair, Zevran and Rowan will be in one. Wynne, Leliana, Oghren and myself in the other.”

“What? You can’t be serious,” Zevran yelled as he leapt to his feet.

“I am perfectly serious.”

The cool tone in Liam’s voice made Zevran pause. He sent a pleading look to his lover and stepped away from the table. He stalked over to Liam, not stopping until he was in the Warden’s space, his face mere inches from the taller man’s.

“I will not be separated from you.”

Liam was silent for a moment and then turned to place his mug and half-eaten biscuit on the mantle. Motioning with his head for Zevran to follow, He led them to the far corner of the room and turned to face Zevran. He leaned in close, grabbed Zevran’s chest plate with one gauntleted hand, and shook the Elf once.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Liam. Mi amor. You cannot ask this of me.”

“I can and I will. I need you to protect Alistair. He is the King! He cannot perish in this battle. I trust no one more than you to ensure his survival.”  
Liam let go of Zevran then and turned away, his face to the wall. “Please, Zevran. Don’t fight me on this. Not now.”

Zevran stood, staring at Liam’s back, his fists clenched in rage and frustration. More was going on here. Liam was holding something back, something important. As he watched, Liam’s shoulders slumped slightly and his head bowed. The sight clutched at Zevran’s heart, subtle as it was. He placed a gentle hand on Liam’s shoulder and squeezed softly.

“All right, querido. I will argue no more.”

“Thank you, Zev,” Liam said as he turned back. Stepping around the Elf, he returned to the head of the table where everyone waited. Wynne and Leliana were obviously, concerned at the outburst between the two lovers, casting glances back and forth between the two men. Eamon had a barely contained look of disgust on his face. 

“If you’re done, Warden? We need to be on the move.”

Liam nodded. “It’s decided then. When we get to Denerim I’ll assign more specifics. Let’s head out.”

Eamon and Teagan left immediately to see to the Redcliffe army. The companions moved a bit slower, approaching Liam to say a quick word of goodbye. Leliana wrapped him in a warm embrace, tears pricking at her eyes when she pulled back. She kissed him on the temple and left, gathering her bow from where it rested by the door. Wynne nodded once, a knowing smile on her face, before following Leliana out of the room, their heads together in quiet conversation. Oghren belched once and then snapped to attention. He crossed his arms in salute and inclined his head to the warden. Then he was gone. 

Sten said nothing, merely nodded in his direction before calling the Mabari to his side. Rowan nudged Liam’s hand, seeking reassurance, before Liam scratched behind one ear and then nodded to Sten. The two quiet creatures left together.

Finally Alistair joined Liam at the head of the table. “I could order you to let me do this,” he whispered. “Not only am I the senior Warden, I’m your bloody King.”

“Alistair, we’ve already gone over this.”

“Fine. I’ll see you outside.”

Alistair strode from the room, pausing for a moment to cast a glance over his shoulder at Zevran, who still remained in the far corner of the room, like a small child being punished for misbehaving. Shaking his head sadly, he left.

With the room empty of everyone but himself and Zevran, Liam let out the sigh he’d been holding back. Why the hell they all looked to him, he would never understand. He hated it. He was good at it he knew, but it still grated on him. Especially now.

Zevran heard Liam sigh and turned back to the table. Liam was standing with his fists on the table, leaning over his hands. The tension fairly radiated off him in waves. With a sigh of his own, Zevran crossed the distance to stand beside Liam. 

Covering one of Liam’s hands with his own, he said, “I am sorry. I should not have questioned you in front of the others. But now that we are alone, will you not tell me why you are truly doing this?”

Liam pulled away roughly from Zevran, shaking free of his hands and striding away. He stopped in front of the fireplace and tried to control his breathing. He didn’t want to be angry, to have harsh words mar any of their last hours together, but his growing frustration at Zevran’s insistence and the stark terror that was the underlying cause was becoming too much to bear. He grabbed his mug off the mantle with one swift move and threw it across the room. It shattered with a crash against the wall.

“Is it not enough that I ask you to protect Alistair? We have worked so hard to see him crowned. I will not give that bitch Anora the chance to seize the throne.”

“But it is still battle. You know as well as I that men die. It is no guarantee, this thing that you want me to do. Unless…” Zevran paused, sudden realization hitting him. “You intend to keep us from the main battle.”

Liam took a deep breath, struggling to keep from screaming, but his voice was strained and rough nonetheless. “Yes! I cannot ask Alistair to remain behind but I can insist that he find a defensible position. I can try to make him as safe as I know how. You and Sten and Rowan, you will keep him in one piece.”

“And what of you? Together, we are nearly invincible. You know this. You have seen this with your own eyes. Why would you deny yourself my skills at your side?” Zevran shouted. Covering his face in his hands, he whispered, “It is the only place I belong.”

Liam barely heard the broken undertone, but it was enough to break his heart. He ran to Zevran and gathered him in his arms, holding him tight. “I’m sorry, my love, but I cannot bear to see you hurt.”

Zevran laughed bitterly with his face in Liam’s chest, “Now you worry about my health.” He pushed against Liam until the man relaxed his arms enough for Zevran to look up. “In truth, for the chance to be by your side I would storm the Dark City itself. Never doubt it.”

Liam traced the tattoo on Zevran’s face. “I’ll find you at the gates of that city if you should be beat me there. And I will be most displeased,” Liam growled.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, mi amor.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and nightmares along the march to Denerim.

It had happened in the marketplace as they battled a team of Ogres. Without Wynne’s healing magic, Zevran would have died. 

Liam held him as Wynne worked frantically to repair the horrible damage done to his chest, whispering fierce commands to him.

“Stay alive, damn you.”

“Si, amor. That is my intent. A mere ogre will not be the end of me.”

Liam chuckled then and buried his face in Zevran’s hair. They held onto to each other as Wynne finished her casting. She sat back on her heels and wiped a dirty hand across her brow.

“I have done all I can.”

Zevran smiled at her and sat up, carefully extracting himself from Liam’s grasp. He tentatively poked his chest and grimaced at the mess his armor had become. Shrugging, he got to his feet with something less than his usual grace and sketched a quick bow.

“Thank you, my dear Wynne.” He turned to Liam, holding out a hand to help him up. “So, where to next, my Warden?”

Liam stood and peered closely at the hand he held. The faintest of dark tracings could be seen limning the veins along Zevran’s arm. He glanced at Wynne, concern and horror on his face.

“I am afraid so,” she whispered.

Zevran was tainted.

Liam looked then into Zev’s face and broke down. The Elf took him tenderly in his arms and soothed his sobs.

“Shhh, querido. Hush now. Do not fear. I will join you in your Grey Wardening. Together, you and I, we will kill many darkspawn.”

Liam took in a ragged breath and pulled back to look upon the face of his lover. He closed his eyes tightly and nodded, once. Stepping back, he turned to face his companions and the remnants of the Redcliffe forces that had battled in the marketplace.

“On to the Alienage.”

Before they left the Alienage, Riordan had fallen in his attempt to slay the Archdemon. They had battled on, through ogres and genlocks; emissaries and alphas; until at last they were at the top of Fort Drakon after what seemed like days wading through blood and gore. Wynne, Oghren, Zevran and Liam erupted through the doors, the Legion of the Dead at their heels.

What awaited them was almost indescribable. 

The dragon was massive. It dwarfed the soldiers harrying it, knocking them aside like children. The Companions charged into battle and if not for the ballista raining bolts down, all would have been lost. Many dwarves died with honor that night under the sky, defending Liam and his companions as they battled.

Finally, it was down to just the dragon and Liam. He raced towards the Archdemon, face clenched in determination and terror. He had lost sight of Zevran moments ago. The taint was working fast in the Elf and he had barely managed to deflect a Hurlock Alpha’s attack as Liam clanged the last ballista bolt home.

He should have keep better track of him.

As Liam swung his greatsword towards the dragon’s neck, he saw Zevran. The damn sneaky Elf had managed to get behind the Archdemon and was about to drive both of his blades into its neck.

Liam screamed as Zev’s blades found their targets. The dragon roared, tossing its head in one final massive death throe. Zevran went flying. Liam leapt over the dying dragon and dove for the still body. Gathering him up in his arms, he buried his face in Zevran’s hair.

“You idiot! What were you thinking?”

Zevran groaned and then his back arched and an inhuman scream tore from his throat. Liam scrambled away on his hands and feet, looking on in horror as the Archdemon’s soul took up residence in the newest darkspawn.

“Maker, no, “ Liam whispered. Wynne rushed to his side, dragging him away from the convulsing Zevran. He fought her, pushing her roughly aside as he leapt to his feet.

Greatsword at the ready, he waited. The thing that had been the man he loved stood slowly and turned to glare at him. Its eyes glowed an evil yellow and the once beautiful face twisted in a sneer. It beckoned to Liam and he charged…

 

Zevran’s name tore from Liam’s lips and he bolted upright. Glancing frantically around his eyes alighted and he dove for the groggy Elf. He clung to him, tracing his hands up and down the lithe tanned body, assuring himself that all was well. He turned Zevran’s arms over, lifted his chin and stroked his throat, checking for the telltale signs of taint.

Zevran bore the inspection with growing concern. When Liam finally subsided, his arms wrapped around Zev’s waist and his head in his lap, Zevran spoke.

“Please, mi amor. Talk to me. You will feel better, no?” he said as he stroked Liam’s head. “I am fine. What concerns you so?”

Liam just shuddered and clung tighter. “You were tainted,” he whispered.

Zevran looked startled for a moment, his hands stilling in their wandering. Then he smiled and ran his hands across Liam’s shoulders, stroking and kneading.

“Nonsense. No darkspawn would dare.”

Liam sighed and sat up. He had hoped that the long march would have left him too tired to dream, but of course, the Archdemon had other plans. Now that the tattered leftovers of his dream were fading, he could begin to think rationally. He knew that there was no way his dream could come true. Not only had he made plans to keep Zevran far away from the final battle, he knew the Archdemon could not possess the Elf. The demon required a soulless vessel and Zevran’s burned far too brightly.

It was still many hours before dawn and they needed to rest. The weariness that had enveloped him when he first crawled into the tent returned and he lay back down, beckoning Zev with open arms.

“Back to bed, my love,” he smiled, gazing fondly at his lover’s face. Zevran gladly joined him, wrapping his arms around Liam’s waist. He kissed him, tenderly, and laid his head on Liam’s shoulder. Their legs entwined and both men sighed contentedly.

“When we are done here, I will take you to Antiva. We will find an apartment in Rialto, perhaps. Not over a leather shop, to be sure. I told you about Rialto, no? It’s a nice enough city. Not as nice as Antiva City, but it would do. I will be warm for the first time in a year. You, you will spoil me.”

“And what will we do for money?”

“There will be a reward for saving Ferelden from the Blight, surely? We will live off Alistair’s largesse. It is good to know the King.”

Liam closed his eyes, biting back a sob. When he felt he could control his voice, he said, “It sounds perfect. Will you grow fat and happy? Or will you find a way to take over the fair town of Rialto?”

“Well, I do not see myself as getting fat but other than that, it sounds about right. Sooner or later, we will have to deal with the Crows, but with you by side, it will be a piece of cake. Maybe we’ll even take them over. I will be the Crow King and you my Consort.”

Liam laughed and kissed the top of Zev’s head. “I thought you said I didn’t have what it took to be an assassin.”

“Tis true, but what you lack in finesse, you make up for in sheer bloody mindedness. One cannot be subtle with a greatsword, but then again, no one will be getting close enough to stab me in the back with you around,” Zevran mumbled sleepily.

“I would keep you safe, my love. ‘Til my last breath,” Liam whispered.

“Umm. And I you, mi amor.”

 

The morning came too soon, disturbing happier dreams. 

No one was asking them to find their lost child or rescue the damsel. No Archdemon, no darkspawn, no Blight. Just the two of them, lying in the warm sun with enough good wine and fresh fish to keep them sated. Time enough to make love without worrying about Wynne’s disapproval or Alistair’s awkwardness. All the time in the world.

Liam was happy, more than he had been in far too long. Sitting on this beach, roasting fish he’d caught himself over the fire, was his idea of perfection. He sat on a log and turned the spitted fish to roast evenly. Zevran sat on the ground beside him, his elbows on the log and his head thrown back to catch the last fading rays of the sunset. 

Leaning over, Liam traced the lines of the tattoo curling across Zevran’s naked chest from his right shoulder down his left hip, disappearing under the waist of his breeches. Zev sighed and hummed his appreciation, arching his back slightly. 

“If I am going to be a proper Antivan, perhaps I should get one of these myself, “ Liam said.

“How are you with needles, my dear? I seem to remember some very inventive cursing those times that Wynne got to practice her sewing on your flesh.”

“Well, that was different. Plus, I don’t necessarily have to be sober, do I?” Liam asked, wrinkling his nose at the memory of having Wynne sew his injuries closed. The cure was nearly as bad as the wound.

Zevran laughed, long and deep, when he saw Liam’s face. “So, you want I should ply you with cheap wine until you’ve found enough courage to face the needle? This would almost be worth your hangover.”

“Cheap wine? You wound me, “ Liam said, placing one hand on his chest in mock injury.

“Ah, forgive me, mi amor. Only the finest Antivan brandy for such an occasion.”

Leaning closer, Liam kissed Zevran lightly on the lips. “Where should I get it?” he breathed against his ear, licking the tip. Liam drew his fingers softly down Zev’s bicep. “Something on the shoulder?” He moved his hand down to rest just below Zev’s navel, stroking tenderly. “Or maybe here?”

Zevran reached up and wound his hand in Liam’s hair at the nape, pulling him closer. “Tease.” He angled his head to capture Liam’s mouth with his own. Teeth and tongues dueled and Liam slid off the log to curl around the smaller man.

A spray of sparks from the fire as the skewer slipped and dumped their dinner into the fire broke the two apart. Cursing, Liam grabbed at the stick, trying to salvage what he could while Zevran convulsed in laughter.

 

When Liam opened his eyes and looked into the face of his lover, his heart squeezed. Would that this dream had the slightest chance of coming true.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The armies arrive at Denerim.

The second day of the forced march to Denerim was as brutal as the first. That evening, Liam trudged wearily to his tent and collapsed inside, barely managing to remove his cuirass and gauntlets before falling asleep.

Zevran found him there a few minutes later, snoring softly. He slipped inside the tent, secured the flap behind him and quietly removed his armor and clothing. Once down to his smallclothes, he pulled Liam’s boots off. Grimacing at the odor, he opened the tent and placed them outside. Next, he worked at Liam’s armor, unbuckling the greaves and cuisses and pulling off the already loosened pauldrons. Then he gently turned his lover over and placed the leg coverings aside. He grasped the mail skirt and tried to tug it off but Liam grumbled in his sleep and tried to turn back over. Zevran grabbed his shoulder and restrained the larger man long enough to extricate him from the last pieces of his armor. Liam subsided with a sigh and Zevran managed the rest of his sweaty clothes with little trouble.

Zev considered tossing the entire lot out to air, but the effort was too much. He crawled on to the bedroll next to Liam and lay down, resting his head on his Warden’s shoulder. Liam wrapped his arms around him and Zev feel asleep with a sigh.  
\--  
The black dragon was perched on a high tower, his talons digging out large chunks of plaster and stone as he shifted his weight. With his wings spread for balance, he craned his long sinuous neck and watched his minions battle on the ramparts below. He threw his head back and roared as the tiny humans massed on the rooftop below him and pelted him with arrows. Taking a deep breath, he belched out flame across the ranks of the archers. They fell back, screaming, and he returned to survey the battle. Soon, the gates would fall and his horde would rampage through the city. 

The blood would run in rivers down the winding streets. 

Sensing the presence of his enemy, his head whipped around towards the distant lake. He comes. The time for their final battle was near. He roared a challenge that shook the stone he crouched on and caused all below him to look up in fear. 

Liam sat up screaming, dumping Zevran out of his arms and scrambling for his sword. In a flash, he was crouched in the tent, sword in hand and eyes flashing. He whirled around at the small noise made by metal on metal, swinging wildly. Zevran barely managed to raise his dagger in defense. The blow shook his arm and Zevran shouted.

“Maker’s breath! It is I. Hold your blade.”

Liam suddenly shook his head and dropped the sword. He seemed terror-stricken and then flung himself at Zevran, who scarcely succeeded in turning his own blade aside. Liam ran his hands across him, checking for injury. Zev wrapped his arms around Liam and held him as the larger man shuddered.

“I am fine, mi corazon.”

A voice at the tent flap startled them both, and Liam started to pull away. Zevran simply tightened his arms and called out.

“All is well, friend. Return to your watch.”

Liam ceased his struggling as the solider moved away, boots crunching in the dry grass. Zevran stroked his back and muttered in Antivan, nonsense words of comfort, until Liam relaxed. Together, they lay back down. 

“Another dream, querido?”

Liam nodded; his head against Zevran’s chest and his legs entwined in the Elf’s. Zevran stroked the fine black hair on Liam’s head with one hand and hugged him tighter with the other.

“What was it this time?”

“The horde has reached Denerim. The dragon sits atop Fort Drakon, watching the battle. He was…gloating. Thrilled at the carnage he knew was to come. And then he turned his head towards me. He…knows me. Senses that I am coming. I am not ready; “ Liam whimpered and turned his face into Zevran’s chest, hot tears bathing them both.

Zevran held him as he sobbed. The Warden’s fear was contagious and Zevran shook, uncertain what to make of the raw emotion that flooded from Liam. All he could do was hold on and wait out the storm. 

The Warden had experienced sleepless nights as long as he had known him, sometimes even waking the camp with his cries. Once Zevran had moved into Liam’s tent, he had learned first hand how often his Warden was plagued. Many a night he awakened, alerted by some small change in his Warden’s breathing, to find him wakeful and wary. He would take the larger man in his arms and soothe his worries with tales of Antiva and his increasingly fictionalized exploits. Sometimes, speech was superfluous and those nights it would be all teeth and mad, harsh need. But as the endgame drew near, the nightmares had become more frequent and their tenor changed. Zevran sensed desperation threading through the Warden whenever he awoke these last few days. He was wound tight and Zev feared for his sanity.

Slowly, Liam’s sobs lessened, but he still clung to Zevran, like a lifeline in a storm. This was madness. How was he supposed to get through the next day? He was marching to his death, after all. A small part of him wanted to run away, as far as he and Zevran could get, and forget about the Archdemon, damn Fereldan politics and the fucking Grey Wardens. 

A Cousland always does their duty, pup, his Father’s voice echoed in his memory. 

Liam shuddered and Zevran’s arms tightened reflexively. “A Cousland always does his duty,” Liam whispered. “Even if it damns him.”

Zevran frowned at the mumbled words and stroked Liam’s brow with a fingertip. “Why would your duty damn you, mi tesoro?”

Liam shook his head, lifting it to look into his lover’s face. “Don’t mind me, Zev. Just feeling a bit morbid.”

The turn of phrase struck Zevran like a slap in the face. The very idea of losing Liam was more than he could bear to think about. He felt panic rising like a maddened bird fluttering in his chest. 

“No hablar de la muerte. No puedo…no, mi amor. Por favor, no pensar en ello. No puedo…”

Liam stopped Zevran’s stuttering Antivan with a kiss, tender and soft. “I’m sorry, love.” 

A single tear slid down Liam’s cheek and Zevran searched his lover’s eyes, finding only sorrow. Something in him broke then and he covered Liam’s mouth in a fierce, possessive manner, his tongue thrusting and his hands fisted in his hair. When he finally broke away panting, his forehead against Liam’s, his own tears streaked down his face.

“Swear to me, mi amor. You will live.”

“Zev, don’t.”

“Swear it,” the Elf growled, shaking Liam. 

Liam took Zevran’s hands in his own and pulled them to his mouth. He kissed each knuckle softly before sliding his hands along Zevran’s arms and up to his shoulders, gently pushing him on to his back. His hands continued up, stroking Zevran’s neck before framing his face. He looked into Zevran’s eyes, trying to convey all of his love in his look.

“Damn it, Liam,” Zev cried. “If you die, I die.”

“Shh. Zevran. Make love to me.”

So they did, through tears and sighs, at turns tender and violent, until at last exhaustion claimed them.  
\--  
Zevran awoke to find the tent empty. The pale light of sunrise was filtering through the tent as he sat up, glancing frantically about. Liam was gone. He dressed quickly, still finishing the buckles on his cuirass as he stumbled out of the tent.

As he stood and looked around the camp, he saw soldiers preparing for the final march. Some were striking tents; others were gathered around small fires wolfing down what meager food was available. Zevran spied Alistair headed in his direction and set off to meet him halfway.

“Morning, Zev.”

Alistair looked pale and withdrawn; his usual humor absent from his voice. Zevran frowned and stopped in front of him, blocking his path. He placed one hand on Alistair’s chest to halt his progress and scowled.

“Where is he? And what, by all that is holy, is causing the two of you such…angustia?”

Alistair looked down at the Elf’s hand on his chest and gently took it in both of own. He held it for a moment before closing his eyes. He squeezed and the let the hand fall.

“Liam has been lucky to have you, Zevran. He’s at the Arl’s camp, just over the hill.”

Alistair stepped around Zevran and headed further down the hill towards his own tent and the camp where the rest of the Companions stirred. Zevran turned and watched him walk away, frowning. Then he sprinted up the hill in the direction Alistair had indicated.

Liam’s comments of night before still disturbed him. There was something the Warden was keeping from him. Something Alistair was keeping from him. Something he was afraid he didn’t want to learn, yet knew he must.

As he reached the Arl’s tent, Liam stepped out. They nearly collided and it was only the Warden’s quick reflexes that kept them on their feet as he snaked an arm around Zev’s waist. Zevran caught himself with both hands on Liam’s shoulders. Their eyes met and Liam pulled Zevran against him and kissed him.

“Good morning, mi amor,” Liam whispered.

“I did not appreciate waking to find you gone,” Zev muttered, slipping his hands up Liam’s neck and into the hair at his nape. He kissed him, quick and hard, before stepping back. His hand trailed down Liam’s arm to entwine his fingers in the larger hand.

Arl Eamon cleared his throat from the tent entrance, the two lovers stepped aside to allow him room to exit. He frowned at them as he passed. A waiting servant handed Eamon a steaming cup of tea which he sipped, grateful of the distraction.

Liam tugged Zev by the hand and led him away from the disapproving Arl. Together, they headed back down the hill towards their own camp. Halfway there, Zevran stopped. He pulled on Liam’s hand and forced the human to face him. With his other hand, he reached up and cupped Liam’s cheek.

“You are keeping something from me. It is time to speak freely, no?”

Liam closed his eyes and grew very still. He kept his face still, as well, trying to keep any emotion from crossing it. When he felt he had his feelings under control, he opened his eyes and smiled. 

Zevran had seen the silent struggle. He knew Liam too well to be fooled. He sighed as Liam smiled. 

“Eamon, Alistair and I were just discussing final strategy. Nothing more. Boring stuff, really.”

Zevran sighed again. “I know there is more. Why do you lie?”

A frown flitted across Liam’s face before he shook his head in denial. “Zevran, it’s nothing.”

“And last night? The night before? Your dreams, they are frightening to you, no? Terrifying.”

“Just the usual. Archdemons and spawn,” Liam dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Zevran took his face in both hands then and drew the taller man’s head down until their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes and held him there for several heartbeats before lightly knocking his head against the Warden’s.

“You are a frustrating man, mi amor.” He released Liam, then. Pushing him away and stepping back. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Let us leave. The sooner we reach Denerim, the sooner this madness ends, no?”

Liam reached out a hand towards the Elf, his face sad. “Zevran, please don’t be angry.”

The sadness in his voice was Zevran’s undoing. He grabbed Liam’s hand and brought it to his lips, holding it tightly. He held out his other hand and Liam stepped into his embrace.

“Te amo.”

“I love you, too.”

They held each other for a moment, heads on each other’s shoulders, before turning and heading arm-in-arm to their campfire and the breakfast that Leliana had made.  
\--  
Zevran’s plan was simple. He would never let Liam out of his sight. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Even among other humans, his Warden stood out, the tallest in the crowd. He would wait and watch. And he would be there for whatever it was that frightened his lover so. 

And he would kill it.

Liam’s plan was equally as simple. Once the battle began, he planned to keep both Alistair and Zevran away from the worst of the fighting. Somehow, he would find an excuse. He knew neither man would like it. Alistair had grudgingly acquiesced during their long argument with Riordan, though he would no doubt plead his case once more. Zevran would argue. It pained him to think that their last words would be harsh, but he was determined to do whatever necessary to keep him away from the Archdemon. 

For now, he was content to march alongside the man he loved. The Arl hoped to reach Denerim by mid-afternoon. Not so long a trek that the troops would be completely exhausted but still far from ideal. Riordan was scouting ahead and no one had heard from him since he left Redcliffe.

They continued through the morning. Lunch was whatever each man had on his person. For Liam and Zevran, that was half a wheel of cheese, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine shared between them. They passed the food back and forth as they walked, eating in companionable silence.

Zevran ate little, instead offering the lion’s share to Liam. The Warden’s appetite was far larger and he wolfed down the meager meal with only a token offer of resistance. The bread and cheese devoured, they passed the bottle of wine between them.

“Do you think they know what’s coming?” Zevran asked, lifting a chin towards the assembled armies.

“The dwarves, yes. They fight the darkspawn all the time. They will have the most experience. It should serve them well. The Mages, well, this taste of freedom from the Circle might be more than they can handle, but I wouldn’t want to enter this fight without them. The Arl’s men have the experience of their battle with the walking dead. Not quite the same but better than nothing. It’s really the Elves that I worry about the most. This is not their kind of battle. They have no idea what’s about to hit them.”

“And do you have a strategy to fight the Archdemon?”

“Well, a good deal depends on what we find when we get there. Hopefully, we can find Riordan and he can give us an assessment. Let’s just say, the strategy is…flexible.”

“All those hours spent talking to Eamon on the road and Riordan before at Redcliffe and that is the best you have? It’s flexible?”

“Sorry to disappoint. We plan on keeping the Elves back as long as possible to harry the enemy at long range. The Mages and Redcliffe army will be sent to handle the horde. The dwarves will head for the Archdemon.”

“And you?”

Liam smiled, tightly, and shook his head. “I’d rather discuss you. I want you to guard Alistair. He’s the King now and he must survive this battle. I can think of no one else more qualified to watch his back.”

Zevran frowned. “Alistair is a big boy. I would much rather watch your back. That is…my place, no? I have an oath to fulfill.”

“I release you from your oath.”

Zev stopped in his tracks. Liam took a few steps more before he realized Zevran was no longer at his side and glanced back. The look of shock on Zevran’s face sent a bolt of concern through him. Zev was pale beneath his tan, his eyes wide.

I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear. The words from so long ago echoed in his head. At first, Zevran had only said them to assure the Warden of his harmlessness, as it were. But the words had come to hold true meaning for him over time. As he had learned more about the man, he found that his oath became a true thing. Something that he believed with his whole heart and as he had come to love Liam, they became something worth dying for. To have them taken away now was more than he could bear.

“You cannot do this. You are…you are mine,” Zevran hissed. “No mere oath of loyalty binds us any longer. You wear my token. Liam...”

Liam crossed the distance between them and took Zevran in his arms. The marching armies broke around them like the tide around a stone, as they stood there in each other’s arms. When a break in the horde of people appeared, Liam steered Zevran away from the bulk of the army into the relative quiet of a field covered in wildflowers, of all things.

“Look, Zev. Everyone seems to be leaving the flowers be. Almost as if they can’t bear to crush them.”

Zevran looked around him, dully. Yes, there were wildflowers here. Another time he might have found them quite lovely. Right now, he was still in shock.  
He took a shuddering breath before asking the question he was most afraid of. “Do you wish to me go, Warden?”

“What? No, oh Maker no, Zev. No,” Liam cried as he crushed the Elf in his arms. “Maker’s breath, Zev. I can’t imagine…never. You are as much mine as I am yours.”  
“Then why would you release me from my oath?” Zev asked, his voice muffled from having his face buried in Liam’s chest.

“Just to…I…it was a stupid thing to say. I wanted you to see that you didn’t have to protect me any longer.”

Zev lifted his head and searched his lover’s face. He saw only anguish and fear, but no dismissal. Reaching up to brush the hair back from Liam’s eyes, he smiled. The fear that had twisted his gut released its clench.

“I protect your back because I have a vested interest in seeing it stay in one piece. It is such a lovely backside, no?”

Liam smiled and shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”

“So I have been told. Come. Let us return to our marching.”

The two stepped away from each other and started back towards the bulk of the army. They didn’t go far, however, before Zevran snatched up Liam’s hand and pulled him back into his arms. He kissed him, devouring his mouth and wrapping his arms around his waist. When he pulled back, both men were panting, eyes dilated with desire.

“Do you still want me to watch Alistair?”

“It’s not what I want as much as what I need you to do. I need you both safe.”

“While you do something foolish, yes?”

“While I do what I must. Without distraction.”

“We…I…have never been a distraction before.”

“I know. This battle is different. More important. I can’t afford any distractions.”

Zevran sighed. “Fine. But know that I do this against my better judgment.”

Liam sighed and relaxed in his arms. “Thank you, love.”  
\--  
The combined armies of Ferelden crested a hill mid-afternoon and below them the city of Denerim lay in ruins. Fires raged in various spots across the city and smoke hung in a pall over the city. High above, circling, was the Archdemon. The time was upon them at last and with one last look between companions, they charged.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

The gates of Denerim were open and bodies littered the battlefield while scattered pockets of beleaguered city guardsmen still fought. They were clearly doing little more than harassing those darkspawn still lingering at the gate. The scene was utter chaos. Buildings were burning. Screams and the clash of arms filled the air. The copper tang of blood and death was nearly overwhelming.

Liam drew his greatsword and the Cousland battle cry tore from his lips as he dove headlong into the fray. At his side were Zevran and Rowan; the rest of his Companions and the armies of Ferelden followed behind. They came to a small group of four guardsmen battling surrounding by almost a dozen Hurlocks first. Liam’s charge and sweeping strike took off the head of one darkspawn and came to rest in the chest of another. Kicking the dying beast off his blade, he turned to strike another. Zevran came up behind and stabbed both of his blades into the spawn as Liam’s overhand strike bit deep into its shoulder. As it fell, Rowan overpowered the Hurlock trying to sneak up behind Liam. Growling viciously, he tore out its throat. With the aid of the trio, the guardsmen were able to take out the remaining darkspawn with ease.

Glancing around, Liam could see Wynne and Leliana near a battered building. Leliana fired rapidly at the approaching darkspawn, protecting Wynne and allowing her to direct her spells without distraction. Oghren and Sten were fighting back to back with a growing pile of darkspawn gathering around them. Eamon, Teagan and the Redcliffe armies were dispersing throughout the area, engaging the scattered horde. Alistair was fighting an Alpha one-on-one and Liam ran to his side. Together they dispatched the huge, ugly beast with ease.

The battle raged on for what seemed hours but was in fact only minutes. The darkspawn were spread out in an unorganized fashion, attempting to take out the pockets of resistance that still held. Their lack of strategy was their undoing. Finally, with the last of the horde in the gate area defeated, Liam looked up to see Riordan running towards him.

“Riordan! It’s good to see you. How goes the battle?”

“We’re doing better than I hoped but the army will not last long. We need to move quickly to reach the Archdemon. We need to reach a high point in the city. I’m thinking Fort Drakon will work.”

Liam shuddered, remembering his nightmare. It will end atop Fort Drakon, he thought. 

“You want to draw the dragon’s attention?” Alistair asked.

“We have little choice, “ Riordan answered. “I can sense two generals in Denerim. You could take half your group and seek them out. Otherwise, the dragon will be able to call on them. At any rate, you should leave the other half here to guard the gate and keep any more darkspawn from entering the city.”

“If we can kill the generals, we should be able to keep them from doing much damage in the city,” Leliana noted.

“True, though it may be a waste of resources. Who will you take with you?” Riordan asked.

“Let me speak to my people for a moment, Riordan.”

“Fair enough. Though do not take long.”

Riordan stepped away from the group as Liam’s companions gathered around him. He looked at each in turn. So far, the fighting had been nothing they could not handle easily, but he knew that would soon change.

Alistair looked grim, but nodded at Liam to proceed. Sten and Oghren had remarkably similar bloodthirsty expressions on their faces. Leliana and Wynne looked concerned but determined and he gave them a small smile. Then he turned to face Zevran. Zev was watching him closely, his expression guarded. Liam took a deep breath and began.

“We’ve spoken a bit about our strategy already. Now we get to put it to the test. Before I give you your assignments, I just wanted to tell all of you what a great honor it has been fighting alongside you. This war will be won because of the sacrifices and strength of each of you. Thank you, for everything.”

Liam began to pace, gesturing at the battlefield around him. “You heard Riordan. We need to leave a group here to lead the defense of the gate. The darkspawn must be kept from reinforcing their numbers. Alistair, I want you to lead Sten, Zevran and Rowan. I’ll leave you the Dalish as support troops and part of the Redcliffe forces, as well.”

Turning back towards the group, Liam pointed to each in turn. “Leliana, Wynne and Oghren, you’re with me. We’ll enter the city, find these generals and work our way towards Fort Drakon. The dwarves, mages and the rest of the Redcliffe forces can support us. Any questions?”

Liam looked at each of them, saving Zevran for last. No one had any questions. Or if they did, they kept them unspoken. Liam nodded and motioned to Riordan to join them. As he let the older Warden know his plans, he hoped that Zevran missed the frown on Riordan’s face.

“If I may have a word, Liam?”

Liam scowled and the two of them walked several yards away to confer in private.

“Are you sure you will not reconsider leaving Alistair behind?”

“Riordan, we went over this in Redcliffe. Alistair is the King now. Ferelden must not be left without royal blood on the throne or we’ll be thrown back into civil war.”

“I understand, but if we should both fail to slay the Archdemon…”

“We will not.”

“It is your decision, Liam. Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now. May the Maker watch over you.”

“And you as well, Riordan.”

“Say your goodbyes. I am heading out to the Fort.”

“Good luck, Riordan.”

“You as well, my friend.”

Liam turned back to his companions. He took the time to speak to each of them in turn, letting them know again how much their help meant; until at last he came to Zevran. 

“So, this is it. You seriously intend to leave me behind,” Zevran hissed, his hurt and confusion evident.

“Zev, we talked about this. I need you…”

“No, mi amor, “ Zevran interrupted. “You talked about this. I need…, “ Zevran stopped, choking back tears. He swallowed and tried to find his voice again. “I fear that there is something…terrible… that you keep from me.”

Liam reached out and grabbed a fistful of Zevran’s hair and drew him close, kissing him tenderly before wrapping him in his arms. They held on to each other tightly, afraid to let go and face whatever lay ahead.

“Know that I love you, Zevran. That’s the only thing that’s important,” Liam whispered, his face buried in Zev’s hair.

Zevran pulled back to kiss Liam, his mouth slanting across the other’s lips in sudden need. When he broke away, gasping, he leaned his forehead against Liam’s.

“In truth, for the chance to be by your side, I would storm the gates of the Dark City itself. Never doubt it. But I gave you my word; I will stay here and protect Alistair. I will always love you, Liam. And if you should fall…” Zevran shuddered, “I will find you at those gates. Wait for me there.”

Zevran stepped away, his fingertips trailing down Liam’s arm before giving his hand one last squeeze. He turned and joined Alistair, Sten and the Mabari where they waited a short distance away. Liam closed his eyes, his heart breaking, as he turned to join his party. Leliana wiped tears from her eyes and even Oghren seemed moved. The dwarf stepped forward until he stood between the two groups. 

Turning to face Liam, he spoke. “When from the blood of battle the stone is fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighters lie dead. As one of the blighters, I sodding salute you. Let’s show them our hearts and then show them theirs.” 

Turning away, Liam led his companions further into the city. He refused to look back. He was afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to go on. He prayed to the Maker that Zevran would survive and find a way to forgive him. He knew the Elf felt betrayed at being left behind, but he knew that, in this instance, he could ill afford the distraction of worrying about Zevran’s safety and whatever foolishness he might decide upon when it came time to fight the dragon. For now, he tried to focus on finding the darkspawn in the city. 

His warden senses were nearly overwhelmed at the sheer numbers surrounding him. Plunging ahead he strained to understand the minor fluctuations he felt in the pull of the taint. It stirred in his blood as a hum; buzzing along his veins like an itch he had no way of scratching. Focusing on it allowed him to set aside his emotional turmoil.

He led his group towards the marketplace, hoping that from there he would be able to sense the best direction to find the generals. At the very least, it would get them that much closer to Fort Drakon. They found pockets of darkspawn along the way but nothing of any import. When they finally reached the marketplace, it was nearly unrecognizable. The chantry lay in ruins, the homes and business were burning and no one seemed to be alive.

Suddenly, Liam felt a surge in the taint. Something was here. Quite possibly one of the generals and whatever troops he had with him. Liam gave a quiet warning to his companions to prepare.

Leliana and Wynne barely had time to seek the shelter of the remains of Caesar’s stand before two Ogres charged the group. Screaming, Liam and Oghren charged into battle, Leliana’s arrows and Wynne’s spells right behind.

Liam flashed to the battle with the Ogre atop the tower in Ostagar and prayed this fight would end better. Swinging his greatsword, Liam slashed the nearest Ogre across the chest and dodged its retaliatory blow. He kept harrying the beast, managing to keep out of its reach due the greater range of his weapon.

“Leliana, look for the general!” 

“Right!” 

Liam glanced to his left to see Oghren take the legs out from under his Ogre and heard the crackle of Wynne’s lightening spell aimed at the reinforcements behind them. Thrusting his sword home in the chest of the Ogre he fought, Liam crowed in triumph as it fell. He slashed its throat for good measure before reaching for the horn at his belt.

Setting it to his lips, he called the Circle mages into battle. From the behind him, him could feel the pull of magic as they began to bombard another Ogre and several Emissaries. Healing magic swept over him and Oghren and he charged into the fray once again.

“There! Liam, the general, he’s coming from the alley, “ Leliana shouted. 

Liam looked up from the genlock he was fighting, absentmindedly slicing it across the chest and killing it as he searched the area. Seeing the general, he realized that he could feel an incredible wrongness emanating from him. He made a note to remember what it felt like and ran to engage.

Oghren saw him moving away and covered his flank, taking out two genlocks with a sweep of his axe before he followed. The mages and Leliana’s bow quickly took out the remaining darkspawn as Oghren and Liam focused their attacks on the general.

Before long, each of them was covered in numerous injuries and great swathes of blood, some theirs, some not. The mages stepped into to assist with freezing spells and the soft glow of healing. 

Rejuvenated from the healing, Liam gave a loud cry and swung his greatsword in an arc over his head, removing the general’s head. Oghren ducked beneath his blade and took out a genlock the mages had missed who had the impudence to sneak up on Liam.

With the general dead, the battle was quickly over. Liam and the others leaned against a relatively intact building to catch their breath. He realized it was Goldanna’s house and wondered momentarily what had happened to Alistair’s bitchy sister. Shaking his head lest his mind wander towards places it shouldn’t, Liam pulled out a health potion and gulped it down. 

“Is everyone all right?”

“Yes, Warden.”

“If I could have a moment, Liam. These old bones need a second to catch up.”

Liam nodded at Leliana and Wynne. “How about you, Oghren?”

“Never better,” the dwarf grunted, swiping at the blood covering his face.

“All right then.” Liam focused for a moment, trying to find the same wrongness that he noted earlier. There seemed to be something in the direction of the Alienage. Pushing away from the wall, Liam sheathed his sword and nodded at his friends.

“Time to move on. Let’s head to the Alienage. I think that’s where the other general is. From there we can head to Palace.”

They nodded and gathered themselves to continue. Liam shouted his thanks to the mages and let them know where they were heading. He told them to head towards the Palace District and wait there.

 

The Alienage seemed deserted but relatively intact as they pushed through the gate. Liam signaled Ogrhen and Leliana to check their flank and the two split off. He and Wynne moved slowly forward. They hadn’t gone far when a familiar red haired Elven girl with a bow strung across her back ran up to them.

“Warden! Oh, am I glad to see you. There is a large group of darkspawn approaching and the barricades won’t hold. We need your help.”

“That’s why we’re here, Shianni.”

“Tell us what to do and we’ll fight for as long as can.”

“Defend yourselves. I have soldiers with me. We’ll take care of the darkspawn.”

“Thank you, Warden.” She turned to her fellow elves. “You heard what he said. “

The elves took up defensive positions in the Alienage and they braced for attack. The barricade the elves had erected was a flimsy thing of wood and bricks, designed more to slow down the horde than keep them out.

Liam had Leliana and Wynne set up to attack at a distance. He called the Legion of the Dead to him from their position just outside the Alienage. With luck, they would be able to take out the darkspawn and leave the General to Liam and Oghren to deal with.

Just as he had his army settled, an Ogre charged the barricade. He clumsily made his way through the redoubt, peppered with arrows and spells as he approached. Liam attacked with a cry and managed to strike a damaging blow before the beast could shrug off the effects of Wynne’s cold spell. From behind the Ogre, the horde attacked. The dwarves charged and soon the Alienage filled with the sounds of battle.

The Ogre dead at his feet, Liam strained to his senses to find the general, only to find that he was holding back behind the horde. Suddenly, the world filled with fire around Liam. He dropped to the ground as Wynne’s shield spell absorbed some of the shock.

“Spellcaster! The general is a spellcaster!” Liam shouted. “Archers! Target him.”

The elves and Leliana moved into position and began raining down a hail of arrows. The dwarves continued to harry the horde, working their way through hurlocks and genlocks with grim determination.

As the horde thinned around him, Liam pressed further into the melee, winding his way towards the general. He found him, covered in arrows and shaking off the effects of a cold spell. Weakened but not down, the beast turned towards Liam with a roar. He cast a fire spell at Liam, barely missing as he dodged. Coming up from a crouch, Liam swung his greatsword, catching the general in the belly and slicing upwards. The beast screamed in defiance and lunged at Liam, swinging his own sword. They clashed with a ring of metal and began to dance around each other, seeking an opening to flay the other.

As they fought, Leliana snuck up behind the general. She had managed to maneuver herself past the main body of the battle, seeking a clear shot, when Liam engaged the beast. Seeing her chance, she set down her bow and drew her daggers. Creeping stealthily forward, she waited until the general was fully engaged and attempting to cleave Liam in two. His mighty swing left his back exposed and the bard darted forward, blessing Zevran’s foresight in gifting her with the deadly poison now coating her blades, and drove them deep into the darkspawn’s back, arcing upward through his kidneys and meeting at his spine.

The general roared in pain and reached behind himself to backhanded Leliana. She flew several feet and landed in a heap. Liam roared in negation and brought his own sword across the neck of the now twitching darkspawn, taking off his head. Before it had even managed to hit the ground, Liam vaulted over the body and rushed to Leliana’s side.

“Wynne!” he screamed. “To me!”

He held the still form of his friend and searched for injuries. Checking her breathing he was relieved to find she still lived. As Wynne maneuvered past the last of the dying horde, Leliana groaned.

“Liam?”

“Leli? What the hell were you thinking, woman?”

“Did it work?”

Liam had to chuckle at that whispered comment. “Perfectly, Leli.”

“Oh, good. Let’s not do that again, shall we?”

“No, I think not.”

Wynne made it to his side and began chanting softly, a warm green glow seeping from her fingertips to cover Leliana. She was done quickly and sat back on her heels. The older mage looked worn and tired but satisfied.

“Nothing serious, Warden.”

“Thank you, Wynne. Do you have some mana potions? You look tired.”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

Liam stood, helping first Leliana and then Wynne to their feet. As he pulled the mage into a brief hug, Shianni ran up to them, grinning.

“We did it! I can’t believe it. You were amazing. All of you. Thank you so much.”

“Your help was invaluable, Shianni.”

Oghren approached then, with Kardol, the Legion commander. They reported that the remaining horde had been defeated with only marginal losses.

“That’s good news Kardol, we head next to the Palace. The mages should be there waiting for us. We’ll gather them and head to the Fort.”

“Very well, Warden. I will attend to my men.”

Grateful that they all yet lived, Liam gathered his friends and headed on towards the bridge connecting the Alienage with the city. As they approached the halfway point, the Archdemon suddenly appeared, swooping down from the Chantry spire. 

“Run!” Liam shouted, and they dashed towards the other side. As the dragon passed, it belched out a great flame and the bridge behind them shattered. Staggering from the onslaught, Liam and his companions fought to keep their feet and continue running. Before the dragon could wheel around for a second strike, they made it to the relative safety of the buildings beyond the bridge.

“By the stone, we have to fight that!”

“That’s the beast itself,” Liam agreed, shaken by the encounter. “Come on. We have to keep moving.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Character death ahead. 
> 
> It should come as no surprise that the Warden dies, but this not the death I am warning about. 
> 
> I warned in the beginning that this was going to end in way that is AU. I see the story of Zevran and the Warden as a tragedy. With Zevran’s history, I find the possibility is very strong that he would do something rash, given the opportunity. 
> 
> From this point on, the only thing that remains canon is the Warden’s death and how he kills the Archdemon. Consider yourself warned

At the gate, the darkspawn attacked. They pushed forward and Alastair, Sten, Zev and Rowan pushed back. With the help of the remaining Redcliffe forces, the battle was quick and decisive.

Zevran wiped his blades off on the Hurlock he’d just killed and looked around him. His friends seemed fine. Alastair was talking to a Denerim soldier and Sten was nearby. Watching him.

Why does he watch me? Zev wondered. Ah, of course, he is nursemaid. No doubt meant to keep me here. Zevran fumed and thrust his blades roughly back into their sheaths. He stalked over to the Qunari and was about to demand to know what the hell was going on when a terrifyingly loud screech filled the air. 

Looking up, everyone could see the Archdemon wheeling in the sky. Squinting, Zevran could just make out what looked like a man clinging to the dragon’s back. What kind of madman would throw away his life in such a mad maneuver? As he watched, the man, tiny and insignificant at this distance, dangled from a single blade as the beast spun and whirled in the air, trying to shake him off like some bothersome insect.

He watched in horror as the man’s blade began to rip through the dragon’s wing. The Archdemon screamed as the blade tore the fragile membrane until at last the man and blade slipped free. The tiny figure fell out of sight near the tower as the dragon clumsily landed onto the top of Fort Drakon.

Zevran suddenly remembered Liam’s dream of the Archdemon sitting atop Fort Drakon and shuddered. Glancing at Alastair, he was shocked to see the man with his head hanging down. As he approached, he saw a single tear slip off the tip of Alastair’s nose.

Tears? For whom? Zevran suddenly came to a halt, still several feet from Alastair. His heart squeezed as the thought flashed across his mind that Alastair knew who fell. 

Liam.

Sten strode over to join them and Rowan crept up to lean against Zevran’s leg. He whined and Zev absently placed a hand on the hound, twisting in the ruff.

Gathering his courage, he let go the dog and closed the distance between himself and his friends. He stared at Alastair for a moment, his face glowering.

“You weep, my friend. For whom do you cry?”

Alastair lifted his head and the look of devastation on his face made Zevran’s knees go weak. He reached out and grabbed Alastair’s chestplate and shook him.

“No,” he whispered. “It is not so. I would know.” Rowan leaned against his legs again, trying to comfort him. “The hound would know. What. Is. Going. On.” Zevran bit out each word through clenched teeth, straining not to hurt Alastair.

Sten placed a hand on Zevran’s arm. “Release him.”

“And what do you know, Sten. What has he told you that he would not me?” Zevran screamed, his frustration bringing him to raging tears.

Sten simply kept his hand on Zevran’s arm and stared at him, his face his usual impassive glower. Finally, Zevran let go and buried his face in his hands. He struggled for control for several moments before finally looking up. His gaze shifted between Alastair and Sten, trying to read whatever lay behind their eyes.

Turning to Alastair, Zevran reached out both hands beseechingly. “I beg of you, Alastair. Tell me.”

“The Warden does not…”Sten began before Alastair cut him off.

“No, Sten. I know what Liam wanted but I can’t. Besides, it’s too late now. Nothing can be done.” He turned to Zevran with a sorrowful look. “That was Riordan who fell. You know he planned on trying for the Archdemon.” Zevran nodded, gesturing impatiently for Alastair to continue. “What you don’t know is why. A warden must slay the Archdemon. If anyone else kills it, it doesn’t die. It simply…moves to the nearest darkspawn.”

“And why does it make a difference if he who slays it is a Grey Warden?”

“When the Archdemon dies, his soul, for lack of a better word, tries to move to a darkspawn. It’s drawn to the taint, you see, “ Alastair said. His voice dropped to little more than whisper and Zevran had to lean in to hear. “But if a Grey Warden strikes the killing blow, its soul is drawn to the Warden instead. And both are destroyed.” 

Zevran stopped breathing. The shock was too great. His mind spun as he tried to come to grips with what Alastair was saying. With a great intake of breath, Zevran dropped to his knees and bellowed.

“No!”

Alastair knelt in the mud and muck in front of Zevran and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Zevran. Liam insisted that he be Riordan’s second. I had hoped the Orlesian bastard would succeed. Now,” Alastair took a deep breath before he continued, “It’s up to Liam.”

Zevran pushed Alastair away, causing him land arse first in the mud. He leapt to his feet and stood over the King, his hands fisted at his side. “You knew! And you agreed to this madness. Why!”

Alastair clambered to his feet and stepped away from the raging assassin. Sten took a step towards him and Zevran turned to face the big man. “And you! You are my nursemaid, no? Sent here not to guard Alastair, but to keep me from doing something…foolish,” Zevran sneered.

In the face of Zevran’s rage even Sten cringed. “I did as I was ordered. As should you.”

“Zev, I’m so, so sorry. It wasn’t my idea.”

Zevran snorted. “No, of course not. Nothing ever is.” He turned to Rowan and knelt beside the Mabari. “You, my friend. You can find him, can’t you?” The dog whined and cocked his head. “Liam once told me that you could find him across any distance. Can you do it now?” He stood and stared at the dog. “Find Liam, boy. Take me to him.”

The Mabari barked once and stepped around the Elf. His head held high, he looked across the expanse of the city, turning slowly in a circle. He stopped, facing Fort Drakon and barked once before dashing off.

Zevran followed. Ignoring the shouts of Alastair and Sten, he ran to keep up with the hound as he bound down the deserted streets.

The Mabari could track Liam, certainly. Unfortunately, that often meant backtracking as they ran into dead ends since he tended to try to find the most direct route.

Finally, Zevran took the lead. Realizing that they were headed for the Fort, he led them through the warrens of the city, avoiding darkspawn and the armies of Ferelden alike. 

The bridge spanning the Drakon River just to the south of the City gate still stood and elf and hound dashed across. On the other side, they hid for tense moments from a patrol of darkspawn headed east to the Palace. When the last darkspawn scampered past, Zevran took off running again. He kept to the shadows as much as possible and prayed that Rowan could follow.

They ran through the noble district. Even here, the darkspawn had struck. It seemed no part of Denerim had been spared, but Zevran hardly saw the flames and shattered homes. Only one thing was on his mind. He must reach Liam’s side, dissuade him from this foolishness and find a way out of the city. Let the damn Orlesians come. Their Wardens waited just across the border. They could have Ferelden back and take the responsibility of slaying the Archdemon. He wanted to forget about the Archdemon, damn Fereldan politics and the fucking Grey Wardens. He intended to remove Liam from this madness if he had to knock him in the head and bodily carry him away.

Scrambling through a rubble-strewn alley, Rowan stopped, whining. He looked around, trying to find Zev. The elf had disappeared completely into the shadows ahead and the Mabari had lost sight of him as he cast about for Liam. He sniffed the air and suddenly set off in a mad dash. He caught up with the elf and tugged on the mail skirt of Zev’s armor.

Glancing down, Zev stopped. “Sorry, my friend,” he said, stroking Rowan large head. “I will try harder to stay where you can see me.”

Rowan whined and leaned into Zev’s legs. “We’ll find him. Never fear.”

Rowan yipped and together they continued their trek. At length they came to the entrance of the Fort. Zevran paused, remembering coming here to free his Warden. That day, not so far past, seemed a lifetime ago. Then, the Fort had been full of soldiers. Now, the stench of blood filled the air. Zevran crept inside the open door and looked around. Bodies of darkspawn and humans alike were strewn about. 

The halls were silent but the faint sounds of battle drifted down from somewhere far above. A steady thump echoed dimly at regular intervals. Zevran cursed and headed deeper into the bowls of the Fort. 

He remembered the layout of the Fort from his previous visit when Liam had slain Howe and freed the Queen, so finding the stairs up took very little time. He encountered no one living at all on the first floor and for a moment hoped that he would find no resistance at all. His luck failed as he approached the stairs to the roof. 

In the room ahead, he could hear the clink of armor and steel. Motioning Rowan to stay, he slipped into the shadows and crept forward. There, in front of him, was a darkspawn patrol about to climb the stairs. He could hear the distinct sound of a ballista ratcheting and firing on the roof above. This group clearly meant to engage those fighting above. The patrol about to charge up the stairs consisted of a dozen Hurlocks, including an Emissary. 

The urge to slip past them and find Liam was strong, and if not for the Mabari, he might have taken the risk. Sighing, he palmed two freeze bombs and crept closer. The darkspawn seemed focused on the battle above them and paid no attention at to their rear flank. Getting into position, Zevran tossed the two bombs, one after another, catching the entire group on the stairs. Rushing forward with a yell, one he hoped that Rowan would interpret, he attacked the Emissary. He poisoned blades slipped deeply into its back and he finished it off with a swipe of his dagger across its throat. From behind him, Rowan howled and charged into battle, knocking down a stunned Hurlock and ripping out its throat. As the darkspawn shook off the effects of the bombs, Zevran and Rowan danced between them with efficiency. Half the patrol continued their charge up the stairs, leaving the rest to finish off the assassin and hound.

That was definitely a mistake on their part.

When the last spawn fell to Zevran’s dagger, he gestured to Rowan to lead the way. The hound took the stair two at a time and burst out upon the rooftop. What he saw made him skid to a stop. Around them was chaos. The remnants of the patrol were being cut down by a dozen of the Legion of the Dead. Beyond that group, the pitiful remains of the Legion were gathered around the dragon. No more than four were left and as he watched, the dragon took them out with the combined might of its claws and tail. Scattered across the roof were dozens of dead dwarves, humans and darkspawn. 

Glancing frantically about, Zevran searched for Liam. Across the roof, he saw Leliana standing over Wynne’s body, cursing and firing arrows in a blur of motion. The elder mage appeared to be alive but dazed. As he watched, Leliana shot her last arrow and cast aside her bow, drawing her blades. She gestured rudely to the last Hurlock in front of her and prepared to meet him head on.

Looking back at the dragon, Zevran saw a ballista bolt strike it deeply in the flank and spinning around he saw Oghren defending the machine from a Hurlock Alpha trying to stop whoever was firing. Just then, Rowan barked and charged the Alpha as Zevran realized just who was firing.

He ran towards the ballista as Oghren failed to deflect the Alpha’s swing. The dwarf staggered back, blood gushing from his chest. The beast roared in delight, shaking his sword at the injured berserker. Oghren roared back and swung his axe in a high arc, coming down on the beast’s neck as Rowan connected with his knees. Together they brought it down. Zevran leaped over the fallen Alpha and ran up the steps to the ballista platform screaming.

“Liam!”

As Zevran made his way around the huge machine, Liam charged down the other side. The last bolt he had fired had finally brought the dragon to its knees. The last of the Legion was gone or engaged. Wynne was down, Oghren was near collapse and Leliana was desperately fighting a Hurlock who towered over her. None of that mattered. The Archdemon was ready for the final blow.

Liam thought he heard Zevran shout his name, but he shook it off. His love was safe and now was the time to finish this. Drawing his greatsword, he charged with the Cousland battle cry on his lips. He flew down the steps and across the rooftop. With a mighty swing, he drove his blade deep into the dragon’s head, just behind the crown of horns.

He twisted the blade home and the dragon roared one last time. A bright light erupted around them both and Liam’s hands contracted around the hilt of his blade as his back arched.

Zevran scrambled around the ballista in time to see Liam charge off the platform. He followed, screaming. Reaching for Liam, his fingertips slid off the plate armor as he slid in a puddle of gore. His right foot shot out to the side and he fell as it entangled in the entrails of a dead Emissary. He struggled to free himself from the mess as Liam surged forward.

Trying to stand, he cried out in pain as his knee refused to bear his weight. He would have fallen again but for the sturdy weight of Rowan, who suddenly appeared at his side. Clinging to the Mabari, he managed to get his feet under him just as Liam pierced the hide of the dragon.

“Liam!” he screamed as he watched the Warden twist his blade and become surrounded by a blinding light. 

Shaking off the hound, he staggered forward and took hold of Liam just as an enormous burst of energy blasted forth from the fused bodies of Warden and Demon. The discharge knocked them both off their feet and blinded him. 

He struggled under the weight of Liam’s armor clad body, sliding out from underneath and gathering him into his arms as he struggled to his knees. The Warden convulsed and from his throat came the most unholy sound. 

He pulled off Liam’s helm with a shaky hand and tossed it aside. The Warden’s face was twisted in pain and Zevran pressed his lips to Liam’s forehead. He rocked back and forth as tears ran unheeded down his face.

“Liam, damn you! Talk to me. I am here, mi amor. Mi corazón, mi alma, no me abandones.”

The horrible sound coming from Liam died away. He stopped shaking and grew calm in Zevran’s arms. His eyes fluttered and he reached up to stroke Zevran’s face. Zev grabbed his hand as it faltered and brought to his lips.

“Zev?”

“Si, mi amor. Thank the Maker, you’re alive!”

“Oh, Zevran, “ Liam whispered. A sudden pain stabbed through his chest and he arched his back. His hand in Zevran’s gripped tightly, making Zev wince. The pain subsided and Liam relaxed. “I’m so sorry, my love. Forgive me?”

“For what? You’re alive. Riordan was wrong. You’ve killed the Archdemon and live.”

“Not for long, my love,” Liam whispered as another pain wracked his body. It left him weak and sweating. His breathing faltered, stopped and then he managed to draw a ragged breath.

“I’ve felt the Archdemon’s soul. It fights me even now. And as it weakens, so do I. I am dying, Zevran.”

“No! I will not allow it.”

Liam chuckled weakly. “Not even you can stop this. Kiss me, my love. I would have your lips be the last thing I feel.”

Zevran gazed at his lover’s face, shaking his head. Tears streamed down his face as he pulled Liam close, burying his head in the black locks. He peppered Liam’s face with soft, feather-light kisses until he reached his lips. 

“Si usted se muere, que muera” he whispered against Liam’s mouth before he covered it with his own. He felt his lover’s last breath escape and his body grow still. 

Vaguely, he realized that Leliana, Oghren and Wynne had gathered around them. Rowan was at his side and the hound nudged Liam’s hand with his head. As it slid lifelessly off, he howled in misery. The sound resonated with Zevran and he threw his head back to join in the Mabari’s pain.

From a distance, he heard Leliana’s weeping and Wynne’s query. He shrugged off the hand the mage set on his shoulder. Pulling Liam’s body close, he glared at her until she backed away. 

“Leave him be, mage, “ Oghren grunted.

Nodding, she turned to the dwarf and began to work on his injuries. The injured she could help. Their wounds she could bind and heal. Zevran’s wound was beyond her skill.

Leliana knelt beside the grieving elf and placed a hand on Liam’s head. Zevran grew quiet as she began to sing softly. Her voice was thick with emotion and the words were sometimes lost in quiet sobs. When she finished, Zevran reached out and took her hand from Liam’s head. Squeezing it gently, he brought it to his lips.

“Thank you, Leliana.”

“Come, Zevran. Let us help you.”

“In a moment, my dear. May I have...a few minutes…to say...goodbye, “ he choked out.

“Of course, Zev.”

She left his side and spoke softly to Wynne and Oghren a short distance away. Zevran turned his back to the trio and lowered Liam’s body to the ground. He straightened his limbs and smoothed back the hair from his forehead. As he kissed him one last time, he collapsed in quiet sobs, he body thrown across Liam’s.

He stayed that way for some time. Long enough for Wynne to become concerned. She moved to begin a sleep spell when Leliana placed a hand on her arm.

“No, Wynne.”

Wynne shook her head but desisted and left to check for any survivors on the rooftop. Leliana watched Zevran and stroked the Mabari’s head. The hound lay listlessly at her side, his eyes glued on his alpha and his mate. A low whine issued from the beast’s throat.

In time, Zevran took a long, shuddering breath. Reaching underneath him, he pulled out Liam’s belt knife. The blade was short, only 6 inches, but Liam kept it wickedly sharp. He used it to deliver the occassional finishing blow on foes and small game alike. Zevran pulled a vial of foul smelling liquid from a pocket and poured the contents on the blade.

“Esperar a que me. I am coming, Liam, “ he murmured as he straightened up. Zevran grasped the small knife in both hands and placed it just below his sternum, tilting upward. 

Leliana looked away just then at the sound of many armored footsteps approaching. Tugging at Rowan’s ruff, she urged the hound to follow her. He refused to budge and she left him staring at Zevran and Liam as she went to determine friend from foe.

Zevran paused a moment, thinking of Liam. Memories of Liam throughout their journey together flooded his mind. In tears and laughter, in the throes of passion and anger. He let those images gather until he found one that seemed the best. He held the image of Liam’s laughing face in his mind as he drove the blade home in one fierce thrust. He gasped in pain, but a smile crossed his face as he twisted the blade.

Rowan lifted his head and howled.


End file.
